


Brett and the Devil - Part 3

by Jonah_Smith_907



Series: Brett and the Devil [3]
Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, very light angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-03-13
Packaged: 2019-11-16 14:48:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18096422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jonah_Smith_907/pseuds/Jonah_Smith_907
Summary: Part 3 of the Brett-series. Also the last one. Please read the first two parts first, otherwise this won't make sense.





	Brett and the Devil - Part 3

**Author's Note:**

> I know it's been ages since I last updated this series, sorry about that, but I just had zero inspiration. That's also the reason why this will be the last part of this.

It wasn't even a full hour later, that Brett had to storm into Matt's room. He wasn't exactly sure what was going on, though he was totally ready to call an ambulance. 

It wasn't that bad. Probably. 

Turns out the vigilante was just having a nightmare. But like full on with flailing limbs and ragged breaths and small screams from the back of his throat, while he was holding his sheet in a death grip. 

Brett let out a quiet curse and carefully poked the lawyer into one thigh. “Wake up, Matt. You're just having a nightmare.”

Matt shot up into a sitting position, hands still gripping the sheets, eyes wide open, chest heaving. For a few seconds he was relatively quiet apart from his panting breaths, then he blurted out a shaky “What” That, however, seemed to bring him back to reality. He buried his face in his hands and lowered his head while doing so. With a heavy sigh he looked back up again and faced the other man.

He didn't know what to say.

“You okay?” Brett grasped the nettle. “That didn't look very nice.”

“It wasn't,” he agreed with a shaky exhale. “But I'm okay. Isn't the first time that happened.”

“Yeah. Of course it isn't. Not very surprising though, when I see those scars.”

Matt protectively wrapped his arms around his torso at the mention of his naked body. Why again had he not put on a shirt before going to bed? Maybe that hadn't been the priority after a panic attack and a concussion. Though now he'd like some cover. 

That thought in mind, he got up – ignoring the cop's hands hovering at his shoulders once again – and grabbed a shirt out of his closet. He put his arms through the holes with some difficulty and eventually got stuck. 

Fuck.

He took a deep breath, the exhale long. “Um … Brett?”

“Already here, Matt. Hold on.” The cop jumped into action and carefully helped the vigilante pull the fabric over his head. “There you go. All fine.”

Matt didn't even feel _that_ embarrassed. Nevertheless he stared at his feet for a while. “Thanks,” he quietly said.

“No problem. You okay, though? You look a little pale.”

“I think 'pale' isn't the worst that I could look like at the moment,” Matt replied dryly. “I'm fine,” he added.

“Yeah, right.” Brett shook his head. Then, without exactly explaining what he was planning on doing, he pulled the other man into the living room and, once again, sat him down on the couch. “Do you want something to eat? Cause I do and I'm gonna get some food.”

“Do you know that small Thai-place around the corner?” A shy smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “They got some delicious stuff there.”

“Sure. I'll be right back. Just don't do anything stupid.”

“What do you think of me?” Matt raised one eyebrow sarcastically. “That I'd get up and go some place else?”

“That's exactly what I think.”

 

Twenty minutes later Brett returned with two containers of hot food. It had taken some careful negotiation until he'd gotten everything he'd wanted, considering it was only half past seven in the morning and most restaurants wouldn't even have opened but since that one Thai-place had known the cop, they'd made an exception. 

“You know, I didn't really expect you to get anything at this time of day,” Matt said, when Brett put down the steaming boxes in front of the lawyer.

“I don't even think it can already be called day,” the cop drily retorted and opened his box. It contained grilled noodles with vegetables. 

Matt tried not to look like he'd just reached heaven when he took the first fork of food and let the fantastic taste flood his taste-buds. 

Brett grinned. “Do you like it?”

The vigilante rolled his eyes. “No,” he sarcastically said. “It's absolutely horrendous.”

The other man let out a warm laugh. “Yeah, I figured.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Go ahead.”

“Why are you still here? Don't get me wrong,” he hurriedly continued. “I'm not complaining about it. I like your company, you're a nice guy. I just don't quite understand why you're still taking care of me?”

“Matt, I said it before, I'm going to say it again: you have a concussion and had a panic attack. I'm worried, so I'm going to stay until you're in the clear. That's what friends do.”

“... we're friends?”

“Yes, you dumbass. We may not have talked much before, but back then I didn't know how cool of a dude you are.”

“Oh. Well.” Matt looked down at his hands and tried not to look too flattered. “That's … that's really nice of you.”

Brett gave him a curious look. “How do you not see how great you are?”

“I suppose I haven't had the best life.” He gave the cop a crooked smile. “You know, the orphanage and all.”

“Must've been hard for a blind kid.”

“Yeah. Plus, I wasn't only blind, I was also weird.”

Brett snorted. “That doesn't surprise me.” He sighed. “I do have a question though: you're blind. So how do you jump around and punch people?”

“Oh. Well. I … I guess you have to think of it as more than just five senses.” He clarified: “I can't see. Not like everyone else. But I can feel. Things like balance and direction. Micro-changes in air density, vibrations, blankets of temperature variations. Mix all that with what I hear, subtle smells. All those fragments form a sort of … impressionistic painting.”

“Sounds impressive.”

“It's handy.” 

“Sure is.”

For a few minutes they ate in silence, until Matt asked: “So um … do you have work today?”

“Yeah. My shift starts in an hour.”

“Would you uh … would you like to come over afterwards?” 

Brett smiled warmly at the other man. “Sure. I'd like that.” He let out a soft chuckle when he saw the way Matt grinned up at him.

“Great,” the lawyer beamed. “Looking forward to it.”

Brett pointed at the Daredevil mask still laying on the table next to the couch and made a serious face: “That stays off until I'm back, though!”

Matt pulled a face. “C'mon, do you think I'd go out now? In the daylight?”

“That's not the point, Matt! The point is, that -”

“I know what the point is. I was only joking, I'm gonna take it slow today.”

Before the cop could say anything else, there was the sound of a door opening and closing and five seconds later, none other than Foggy of all people was standing in front a shirtless Matt, who was sitting next to a cop, who was pointing at the Daredevil mask. 

The blond let out a loud cough, followed by a short pause and then – an ungodly _screech_ on the top of his lungs. 

Matt sighed. “Well fuck.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading!! Leave a comment if you like


End file.
